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Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Fascinated by the story of the hidden chamber that has been located in Belvedere House, the National Library of India, I have been impatiently awaiting news from the Archaeological Survey of India, which is cautiously opening a peephole.

The mystery of what is hidden inside the chamber -- skeletons? a trove of treasure? -- is still unsolved. There is also the mystery of its reputation of being haunted. How did this come about?

"The footsteps of the Governor's wife can still be heard," a student researcher told him.

A taxi-driver waxed garrulous on the subject. The security staff keep on changing their shifts, he claimed, as they don't like to keep post at night. They haven't complained, however, because they are afraid of losing their jobs.

Apparently some workers have been killed during the building of a new edifice on site, adding their ghosts to the legend.

Librarians staunchly deny that Belvedere House is haunted. They apparently haven't said anything about the secret room, either.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

The Smithson Magazine (link embedded above) carries a heartwarming story by Ted Gup, who learned the truth behind a 75-year-old mystery when his mother took him up to her attic in Kennebunk, Maine, and gave him an old suitcase full of letters.

Back in 1933, when the Great Depression clutched the western world in its chilly grip, a mysterious "B. Virdot" placed an advert. in the Canton Repository, inviting those who were down on their luck to write him a letter. "B.Virdot," the notice advised, was not a real name, but the nom-de-plume of someone who was willing to help.

Letters poured in, in their hundreds, and five-dollar checks were sent out to the 150 most beleaguered families. Five dollars was a small fortune at the time, more money than most people had seen in months. Unsurprisingly, the story became widely known, but while the generosity of "B.Virdot" was lauded, his identity remained anonymous.

And so it seemed destined to remain -- until the day Ted Gup was handed the suitcase of letters. They were the original letters written in response to the newspaper advertisement, all dated December 1933, and addressed to B. Virdot.

B. Virdot was Ted Gup's grandfather, Sam Stone. He had gone to his grave thirty years before, content to take the secret of his generosity with him.

Friday, November 26, 2010

The Guardiannewspaper has an intriguing item of interest to all book collectors. Though not a likely wedding gift for Kate and Wills (assuming they are bibliophiles), the so-called "Wicked Bible" would merit pride of place on many a millionaire's bookshelf.

It was a printer's error ... or maybe not.

Back in 1631, Barker and Lucas, the royal printers, published a Bible with one of the most famous misprints (if it is that) in the whole of literature.

We all know the Ten Commandments, right? (Don't all speak at once.) In case you don't remember, you can find these rules in Exodus 20:14. In Barker and Lucas's edition, Number Seven, which should scold one about sinning out of wedlock, reads, "Thou shalt commit adultery." (My italics.)

Was it the work of some errant apprentice? Or did Barker and/or Lucas feel like justifying some extramural fling? Who knows? What is on record is that the Bishop of London noticed and was deeply offended. He immediately passed on the nasty news to the king, Charles I, who summoned the errant printers to the Star Chamber, fined them 300 quid, and revoked their licence. (Pity it wasn't Charles II, who would have found it funny.)

Worse still, it put the whole of printer-hood into bad repute. The Archbishop of Canterbury blamed it on shoddy standards. "I knew the tyme when great care was had about printing, the Bibles especially, good compositors and the best correctors were gotten being grave and learned men, the paper and the letter rare, and faire every way of the beste, but now the paper is nought, the composers boyes, and the correctors unlearned," he opined.

Naturally, the book became widely and popularly known as the Wicked Bible. It was the kind of publicity modern publishers can only dream about. The whole print run of 1,000 copies was supposed to be destroyed, but naturally some survived. There are 11 Wicked Bibles officially in existence, but there are probably more.

So it is perfectly possible to find one -- but be prepared to shell out at least fifty thousand pounds, or the equivalent (about 90,000) in hard-earned greenbacks.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Veteran archivists Ray Grover and Kathryn Patterson have published an op-ed in the Dominion Post of Wellington, arguing that Government moves to subsume Archives New Zealand into the Dept of Internal Affairs threaten the basis of a healthy democracy.

As they go on to say, Accountability is a cornerstone of a working democracy, where politicians and officials are held responsible for their actions. But for this accountability to be possible the nation's memory must be reliable, intact and available. There must be an impartial public record of decisions and the implementation of policies by government that is safe from interference.

This is what the independence of the Archives of New Zealand guaranteed.

Now, the situation is going to change.

Before Christmas the State Sector Management Bill is expected to return to the House for its second reading. Once this Bill is passed, after 1February 2011, preservation of the public record in New Zealand will have more in common with Third World states than Western-style democracies.

As the two writers go on to demonstrate, this is a worryingly retrograde step.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Archives! The very word is redolent of dust and decay. Of pale-faced historians poring over faded documents as they fine-tune their latest theses. Human Rights Commissioner Jeremy Pope considers the effect of a bill to merge the New Zealand National Archives with the Department of Internal Affairs.

National Archives! The place where discarded government files go to die and receive a prolonged burial. Such, at least, is a widespread public perception. Unfortunately there seem to be those in positions of influence who share this view.

Unfortunately, because National Archives are very much more than a mere filing system. Yes, it has more documents than we could ever imagine, but the Chief Archivist is very much more than a grandiose filing clerk. Rather he or she has a role as an independent watchdog, presiding over the destruction of government records as well as the systems by which government departments store them. In a word, the Chief Archivist preserves the collective governmental memory, and in so doing protects us all.

If records are a shambles, Official Information Act requests cannot be met. If they can be destroyed willy-nilly by officials, misdeeds can be covered up and citizens can lose any chance of being able to sustain claims arising from breaches of their rights, human and otherwise. If members of the Executive have influence over what can, and what cannot, be kept, citizens generally are all at risk.

An effective Archives system, too, acts as a protection against corruption. Not for nothing has Transparency International accorded us the status of being the world¹s least corrupt country. Look at those less well regarded and you will see, universally, accountability systems in which effective government record-keeping is deficient. Archives New Zealand is a pillar of our national integrity system and of our constitution.

This is why there is considerable unease about a Bill now before parliament. True, this unease is mainly among historians and those few who are knowledgeable about Archives matters. It is, however, an unease that should be felt by us all.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Both the Labour Party and the Green Party think that amalgamating the National Library (together with the iconic Alexander Turnbull Library) and Archives New Zealand into the Department of Internal Affairs is a terrible idea.

The Government in March announced the two bodies would be integrated into the Department of Internal Affairs to save between $3 million and $9m, and assured critics the independence of their statutory roles would be protected.

Labour MP Grant Robertson strongly disagrees, saying it will undermine the independence and influence of both the Library and the Archives.

"The result of the bill will see the chief archivist and national librarian as third tier-managers who are not part of the leadership team at (the Department of Internal Affairs), with no guaranteed access to ministers," he says.

"All of this is being done for limited savings. The Government was not able to tell the select committee how much would be saved, or offer any real justification for the merger," he said.

"Labour will continue to oppose these aspects of the bill."
The Green Party said the change could have a disastrous effect on both the National Library and Archives NZ.
"We share some submitters' concerns that this process has been driven out of an ideological motivation to reduce the number of governmental departments rather than a desire for good archival or library outcomes," the party said.
"Sharing technology and digitisation, bureaucratic efficiencies and cost savings were presented as arguments in favour of proceeding with this bill.

"No evidence or robust analysis why this particular and very disruptive structural solution was needed to achieve essentially financial and technological policy aims was presented.
"The Green Party believes this is a retrograde step."

A real-life, perhaps "true crime" mystery has unexpectedly come to light, with the renovation of India's National Library, historic Belvedere House, in Alipur, near Calcutta.

According to Jhimli Mukherjee Pandey, writing for The Times of India, Belvedere House has always had the reputation of being haunted. Now, architects working on the restoration of this great eighteenth century building have uncovered a good reason for it. They have discovered a secret room -- a mysterious space about 30 metres square, with no openings into it. Not even trapdoors. Just the suggestion of a bricked-in arch.

Belvedere House was built in the 1760s by Mir Jafar, who gifted it to the first Governor-General of India, Lord Warren Hastings. In 1854 it became the official residence of the Lt. Governor of Bengal, and remained so until the British capital moved to Delhi. After Independence, the National Library was moved to the building, the librarians apparently taking stories of ghosts in their stride.

Recently, the books were moved out to temporary storage nearby, while the Archaeological Survey of India restores Belvedere House to something like its former glory. And that was when the architects discovered this large blank space.

Lengthy negotiations are taking place, to secure permission to open it up. Naturally, speculations are rife. Was it a death chamber? Did one of the British Governors have secrets to hide? Eighteenth century politicians in India were rather fond of walling people up, according to legend. Or was it a treasure vault?

"It could be just about anything," said D V Sharma, regional director of the Archaeological Survey. "Skeletons and treasure chests are the two things that top our speculations because it is not natural for a building to have such a huge enclosure that has no opening."

But how to find out what secrets it holds? The current plan is to open up a small hole, once permission has been granted, and poke in a searchlight and a camera.

"We are eagerly awaiting the first look inside," said historian Barun De.

Monday, November 22, 2010

I have just opened my copy of the latest Listener, just arrived in the mail, and have found a great article by Guy Somerset, profiling Craig Sisterson, KiwiCrimeWatch blogger (see RH menu; also picture, right), the upcoming decision on Kiwi Crime-writer of the Year (aka the Ngaio Marsh Award, inspired and organized by said Craig Sisterson), and the growing respectability of crime writing in New Zealand.

Fascinating stuff. I have to admit that my own crime reading as a youngster was Ngaio Marsh, Agatha Christie, or Leslie Charteris. (Anyone reading this young enough to remember The Saint?) I was convinced that all crime writers were English. Then I found American crime writers, who seemed to be in a different genre altogether. Great stuff, but Different.

So, when I was asked by my agent to think up a crime series, who did I turn to? Agatha Christie.

What an odd model for a historical maritime mystery series, is all I have to say now. But it worked.

Now, there is huge interest in new young bloods, like Vanda Symon, Neil Cross, and Alix Bosco, the finalists in this big new award, the result of which is to be announced in Christchurch on 30 November.

Congratulations and best of luck to all these wonderfully talented young people.

But still there is a mystery. What interests me is how little attention is paid in New Zealand to a major modern mystery/thriller writer.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

If you want to fulfil your dreams, you will have to work relentlessly. At least twice as hard as any man. You must find within yourself the necessary determination, the will and the wisdom. And you must also cultivate intelligence of the heart.

This quotation from the New Zealand Book Awards Fiction Category Winner, Alison Wong's novel As the Earth Turns Silver, is advice given by a wise woman to a girl who is heading off to medical school in the year 1914, when girls did not usually do such things. Change one word, "man" to "European," and it could apply just as aptly to the main protagonist of this book, a Chinese man, Wong Chung-yung, who arrived in Wellington at the age of 18 in 1896.

This is a story with two threads -- the status of women and the status of Chinese in early 20th century New Zealand. The two strands are closely linked -- just as on the ships of the time, where Chinese men were cooks, stewards, and laundry workers, the Chinese men of Alison Wong's story do jobs that were considered women's work. Yung, for instance, washes carrots and beetroot, cooks meals, and scrubs out the family greengrocer shop, while Katherine, the European woman he comes to love, labors to rinse, wring, and hang out the washing, and then prepare stew for her unappreciative family. There is the same unfairness, which disturbs them both, but which both accept as a fact of life, because that was the way things were at the time.

There are many eloquent chapters in this beautifully written book, mostly very short, as this is a story told in bytes. It works well. Not only does it make the book very readable, but the frequent pauses give plenty of opportunity to think deeply about whatever glimpse of life in Wellington or in the Chinese home village has just been shared by the author.

Though the theme is discrimination, the book is character-driven. Yung and his brother, Wong Chung-shun, are particularly well-drawn, providing a remarkable insight into the racism of the time. Katherine, whose gradually developing love affair with Yung is exquisitely described, is more blurred, often seeming more symbolic than real. By contrast, the Chinese women who feature in the story -- the two wives of the brothers, left behind in China to eke out claustrophobic women's lives with their mother-in-law, and Mei-lin, the pretty little concubine Shun chooses to bring to New Zealand -- are almost brutally alive.

The remarkable research is a bonus. Alison Wong is a meticulous historian, and the carefully evoked background is evidence of this. Altogether, As the Earth Turns Silver is a book to be treasured, as it will definitely will be read more than once.

When Crown Publishers signed on the dotted line, they expected "gripping never-before-heard detail" about key moments of the former president's tenure in the White House, but instead got a collection of anecdotes scooped from previously published memoirs written by subordinates.

For instance, there is a touching little tale from Karzai's inauguration. Unfortunately, GWB wasn't there.

Ironically, he also appears to have swiped passages from critical accounts of his presidency, such as those by Bob Woodward and Robert Draper.

If true, Bush joins august company. According to gawker.com, Tony Blair, that famous plagiarist, scooped his account of his conversation with Queen Elizabeth from the film The Queen, which he claims he has never seen. Apparently, he "remembers" it word-for-word, though the conversation actually only existed in the screenwriter's imagination.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Publisher's Lunch reports that the New York Times promises eBook bestseller lists for "Early Next Year"

According to the announcement, it will "publish e-book best-seller lists in fiction and nonfiction beginning early next year." Spokesperson Diane McNulty elaborated, on questioning, that they they will run dedicated ebook bestseller lists rather than incorporate ebook sales into any of the existing lists.

Additional details, including the number of positions on the official lists and the possibility of showing "extended" lists online, will be announced "closer to launch."

One hopes they will not make the "Amazon" mistake, and include free eBooks in their sampling.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

I can't believe that I have been reading Forever Amber. I read it first at a tender age, and remember very little about it. I suspect, however, that my mother did not know!

Anyway, I was encouraged to read it again by a comment from a physician who is as interested in medical history as I am. He remarked that Kathleen Winsor's description of London during the great plaguewas the best lay account he had ever read. I was not impolite enough to ask him what the devil a mature Kiwi male was doing reading a bodice-ripper (though I have often wished I did), but his observation stuck in my mind. So, when I saw the recently re-issued paperback in the library, I decided to give it a go -- especially when I checked on Amazon.com and found it is doing well.

I suppose I got two-thirds of the way through the book before putting it aside, after a quick look at the ending. It's the story of Amber, a country girl, who in the early years of the Restoration is seduced by the broodingly handsome Lord Carlton. Despite his reluctance, she goes with him to London, where she falls in and out of a lot of beds (including that of Charles II), gets married several times, but never gives up on adoring him, vainly hoping he will make her his forever.

Despite all that bed-hopping, there is no graphic sex. Anyone who reads this for pornography is going to be gravely disappointed, as is anyone who expects Amber's character to develop at all. She is utterly obnoxious, beautiful but shallow, selfish, bad-tempered, hysterical, and demanding, and despite what life throws at her, she never learns. Instead of maturing, she merely ages. Altogether, both cardboard and unconvincing.

But the background is amazing, filled with intriguing trifles of London and court life at the time. Because of this (and the irritating protagonist), it reminded me a lot ofGone With the Wind. In Margaret Mitchell's iconic work, the descriptions of medical care during the Civil War were riveting, and the same can be said -- oh yes indeed -- for Winsor's descriptions of the Great Plague of London.

Day by day London was changing.

Gradually the vendors disappeared from the streets, and with them went the age-old cries which had run through the town for centuries. Many shops had closed and the 'prentices no longer stood before their stalls, bawling out their wares to the passerby -- the shopkeepers were afraid of the customers, the customers were afraid of the shopkeepers ...

Searchers-of-the-dead walked in every street. It was their duty to inspect the dead and to report to the parish-clerk the cause of death. They were a group of old women, illiterate and dishonest as the nurses, forced to live apart from society during a time of sickness and to carry a white stick wherever they went so that others might know them ...

The town grew steadily quieter. The busy shipping of the Thames lay still -- no ships might enter or leave the river -- and the noisy swearing impudent boatmen had all but disappeared. Forty thousand dogs and two hundred thousand cats were slaughtered, for it was believe they were carriers of the sickness. it was possible to hear, far up into the City, the roaring of the water between the starlings of London Bridge -- a noise that usually went unnoticed. Only the bells continued to ring -- tolling, tolling, tolling for the dead.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

I happen to know that a biography of Kapiti poet and major New Zealand literary figure Alistair Te Ariki Campbell has been brewing for a long time now -- and it seems that at last this labor of love has a good chance of being completed.

Author, translator (to and from German), and opera singer Nelson Wattie has been awarded an 8-week stint at the Michael King Writers' Centre in Devonport, Auckland, next southern autumn, along with an $8,000 stipend.

Congratulations are also due to Aucklander Arthur Meek, who has a summer residency to work on a play called The Good Times.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Manawatu collector of militaria, Trevor Richards, scooped a marvelous moment while leafing through a book he had bought for $2.

The Manawatu Standard reports that a postcard penned in 1945 fell out of the pages of the book, which was the story of Charles Upham, the famous Kiwi who was awarded the Victoria Cross not once, but twice. Having bought the book, called Mark of the Lion, at a second-hand sale in Waikanae, Mr Richards did not expect the postcard to be anything more than a bookmark -- until he read the message, and realized that it had been written by Upham's wife-to-be, Molly McTamney.

Captain Charles Upham was awarded his first VC for exceptional bravery in Crete, in 1941, and the second for his actions during the attack on Ruweisat Ridge in the Desert War, in 1942.

He and Miss McTamney had been engaged for seven years when the postcard was written in Paris, and sent to a Wellington woman. They married shortly afterward, in Hampshire, in southern England.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Philip Jones reports in The Times (Books, 3 November) that James Bond retains his image as a double agent.

The estate of author Ian Fleming has decided to sell e-editions of the mega-selling books directly to the public, instead of through Penguin, the publisher of the paper versions.

They have every right to do this, they claim, as the original contracts were written before the e-book era, and so digital rights were not included.

Penguin are playing tough, and have informed Ian Fleming Publications (IFP) that they will not renew the licence to print the novels if the digital rights are not included.

They could be bluffing -- the novels still sell well, topping 100,000 sales each and every year.

Literary agents are watching with interest, as it could hail a big shift from the traditional publishing mode, with the big digital publishers, such as Amazon, directly competing with print editions in the marketplace.

Already, Amazon offers authors a 70% royalty for books published exclusively on Kindle.

Publisher's Lunch reports that though sales at Simon & Schuster declined by $12.7 million in their third quarter, or 5.5 percent, at $217.7 million, their profits rose by 10 percent, to $31.2 million.

So how did they do it?

Partly because of cost cutting measures, according to CEO Carolyn Reidy.

The other factor is electronic sales. Reidy says "the strength of the ebook market is quite remarkable" and notes that a number of their continuing authors are seeing sales increases for print and ebook sales combined.

While gamely claiming that the changes in the book trade are "very healthy," Reidy does admit that adjusting to the rapid metamorphosis is not "without its concerns," mostly trying to work out "where the audience is" and how best to reach them.

eBook sales for the year-to-date in the US comprise 7.1 percent of net sales, which is an increase of 173 percent over last year, and they are continuing to rise quarter over quarter.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Reminiscing about the back-story to this remarkable biography of a sheep station library, the author, Lydia Wevers, writes, "When I was first introduced to the Brancepth library, as a collection of dirty books with faded covers in beautiful glass cases on the ground floor of the university library, I thought it would become the subject of an elegant essay about past reading habits, a little excursion into the back waters of a Victorian library."

Instead, the Brancepeth Library became the subject of an elegantly written book, one that offers a great deal more than a "little excursion". Reading on the Farm is a richly detailed analysis of not just the station library, but the readers, too.

I know this library myself, in its relocated incarnation. Since 1966, when it was gifted to Victoria University of Wellington, its glass-fronted bookcases have stood in the corridor that leads to the Beaglehole reading room. When waiting for the Beaglehole to open, or while taking a breather from a spell of intensive research, I have lingered at the cases, scanning the faded red spines for vaguely familiar titles, wondering why this collection of Victorian popular fiction is there. It took Reading on the Farm to solve the mystery.

Lydia Wevers begins the biography of the library like a skilled playwright, setting the scene by describing Brancepeth (a sheep station in the Wairarapa, with a grand old homestead) as it is now and was then, and the history of the station libraries that loaned out books to employees who paid the annual subscription fee (one pound, not a small amount in those days).

Then, in the following chapters, she describes the characters who people her book -- the major player being the station clerk, John Vaughan Miller -- and the conditions in which they read the books. The last three chapters, which I found particularly fascinating, are lively studies of the books themselves, the men (and a few women) who read them, the marks of their passing -- inscriptions, pressed flowers, filthy fingerprints, spilled tea, scorch marks -- and their opinions of what they found there, often expressed in startlingly eloquent marginal comments.

The chief offender in the list of those who marked up the books was John Vaughan Miller. He translated phrases in languages ranging from Greek to German, added instructive explanations for less intellectual future readers, highlighted passages he liked, corrected grammatical errors, underlined awful writing, and penned comments such as "Splendid!", all in ink. As Lydia Wevers dryly comments (239), "Miller was always busy proving that he was a great and a wise reader".

Despite this, it is obvious that she was fascinated by this object of her research. A one-time Admiralty clerk, and obviously well-educated, Miller was a man who had come down in the world, most probably because of the demon drink. Of almost the same social status as his employers, yet just their humble clerk, he wrote to bolster his image of himself, penning letters to the editor, and what would today be called "op-eds". A complex man indeed, deftly and gradually revealed, until he fairly strides off the page. Quite apart from its other virtues, getting acquainted with John Vaughan Miller makes this book a rewarding read.

Something else I found fascinating about Reading on the Farm relates directly to all my previous posts on the future of e-books and digitisation. By analysing this library and the people who read the books, the author comprehensively refutes the argument "that when you hold a book in your hand, all you hold is the paper". Most, if not all, of the books in this collection of Victorian fiction have been digitised, most probably, but all you have on the screen of your e-reader or your computer is the text. As Lydia Wevers demonstrates in entertaining detail, what you have lost is the eloquent evidence left behind by past readers upon the grimy, well handled pages.

Reading on the Farm should be required reading for all librarians. It is also highly recommended to anyone interested in books, reading, or domestic life on a colonial farm.

﻿It's official. Wellington is cool -- and not just because of the infamous southerly breezes.

Lonely Planet's Best in Travel 2011, subtitled The Best Trends, Desinations, Journeys & Experiences for the Upcoming Year, has named Wellington, New Zealand, one of its top cities.

For the first time, in this edition, Lonely Planet's top ten countries, regions and cities are ranked in order, and Wellington scores the fourth spot in the city category. As the book suggests, this "most innovative and inspiring city might just be the 'Best Little Capital in the World'."

The writer of the rave review is Catherine Le Nevez, a lady of impeccable taste. As she observed, locals love their city, "and get a kick out of helping visitors fall in love with it too."

Aha, so all those times I have directed cruise ship passengers to the Cable Car, my efforts have not been wasted, after all.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Considering what I have just posted (see directly below), the world is full of weird coincidences.

BREAKING NEWS is that a young Somali writer by the name of Nadifa Mohamed has been shortlisted for the 10,000-pound Guardian First Book Award.

Her novel, Black Mamba Boy, is also shortlisted for the prestigious Dylan Thomas Prize, worth a cool 30,000 pounds.

Nadifa Mohamed spent her early years in Hargeisa, Somaliland, before moving to the United Kingdom. Her book is evidently based on her physical and emotional relocation, because it describes a journey from her Somali homeland to Port Talbot, in Wales.

Other books in the Guardian shortlist of three novels and two non-fiction studies are Boxer, Beetle, by Ned Beauman, Your Presence is Requested at Suvanto, by Maile Chapman, Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margin of Error, by Kathryn Schulz, and Romantic Moderns, by Alexandra Harris.

It is not on the official list, however. This was because Mohammed can be spelled in twelve different ways (including, I suppose, Hamid, and Ahmed). The two most common spellings, Mohammed and Muhammed, came in at 16th and 36th place, making a total of 7549 baby boys given one version or the other of the Prophet's name. Statistics are statistics, however, so Oliver, given to 7364 children, topped the list for boys.

The demographers must be sitting up and taking notice, because surely it cannot be put down to fashion.

Otherwise the names, ranging from Harry to William, are sturdily Anglo-Saxon, perhaps with the exception of those fine Biblical monikers, Joshua and Daniel.